Iles d'Hyeres
by Spirit the Fire Dragon
Summary: Hannibal/Bioshock Infinite AU. Will Graham, ex-Pinkerton, was sent to the flying city of Columbia to rescue a young girl named Abigail from the Prophet Hobbs' clutches. But along the way, they keep running into that strange couple-the Lector twins-and they have a certain knack for disappearing in the middle of a conversation. How rude.


Will Graham was really starting to get pissed at this scotched job.

_Get the girl_, had been the order. Simple enough. Get the girl, get her back to New York. Simple.

Stupid, _stupid_ Will.

He should have known that nothing would have really worked out when he was locked down in a posh chair and rocketed up fifteen thousand feet to a floating city that focused _far_ too much on religion and their beloved Prophet. Naturally, ignoring these factors, nearly being drowned during a baptism to even enter the damn place put Will in a bad mood and set him on the job on the wrong foot.

And don't even get him started on the girl herself. She was mouthy and independent and far too strong for the looks of her; she could throw a book or ammo harder than most men Will had fought with in his younger days. And she was naïve. The poor bitch, she had no idea what the world was like, being locked up in that tower like she was for her entire life.

Will shook his head and pinched the bridge of his nose and wiped the sweat from his eyes. His hair was slopped and dirtied from the carnage of fighting their way through the floating city, and sweat was pouring down his back from the exertion. He had to constantly wipe his hands on his slacks just so he wouldn't drop his pistol mid-shot.

Abigail watched him for a moment after peeking around a corner, glancing around before approaching him with a small health kit she found.

"Mister Graham," she said. He looked up at her momentarily and only raised his eyes to her chin before averting his gaze to the trees over her right shoulder. She was still somewhat put off at his inability to look anyone in the eye. "You're hurt. Let me—"

"I got it," Will said, somewhat gruffly. He took the health kit from her hands and dug out the bandages to wrap his bleeding forearm, where a bullet had grazed him in the last volley. Abigail frowned but let him tend to his own wounds. He tied off the bandage with his teeth, as his right hand still throbbed from being skewered in the previous hours.

"Which way, then?" Abigail finally asked, crossing her arms. Her dress was torn ragged and slips of her black hair had fallen over her increasingly dirtying face. She was not immune to the carnage, either, though so far she had managed to keep both her hands and her skirts clean of blood.

Will grunted after a moment and took his time examining the stonework beneath Abigail's feet. Then he reloaded both his pistol and the sniper rifle he had pilfered, the former of which he holstered after reloading, before he spoke. "We're off the Hall of Heroes, aren't we? We ought to head in that direction, then."

"I figured that," Abigail said, somewhat hotly. "But don't you know which direction to go to get there?"

"Not really, girl," Will said, momentarily meeting her gaze before looking back at his weapon. "I've just got here too, you know."

"Perhaps they ought to ask for directions, then," a new heavily accented voice said.

"Have you ever seen them ask for directions?" responded a similarly accented, male voice.

"No, but there is a time for everything."

"Is that time _now,_ however?"

"When is it not?"

"Oh, not you two again," Will muttered. He and Abigail had turned to see the two familiar figures of the man and woman who had been seemingly following them since the very beginning; Will even recognized them as the ones who had rowed him into shore.

"I suppose you're right," the man said. "It is always the time—"

"—but never the time at all," the woman finished for him.

"Hm," the gentleman agreed.

The two looked impeccable and unperturbed as always, standing calmly and unconcerned by the shop window nearest Will and Abigail. The man was, as always, delicately eating whilst he spoke, but never once with his mouth full. He seemed to have mastered the ability to time his bites, savoring, and swallowing so the conversation never ran off without his input. On this occasion, he was using a small knife to rake bits of skin off of a single grape.

The woman stood near him, also examining a grape the same color of the one her companion was skinning. She, however, was holding it up to the light, as if to see right through its purple flesh and skin. Both the man and woman wore similar clothes; the man an impeccable deep grey suit with a matching tie and a red undershirt beneath the buttoned vest, and the woman a similar colored jacket, tie and skirt combination that gave the impression they were wearing the same clothes, only differentiated by the tailoring for their respective sexes.

"What are you two doing here?" Will demanded, standing and shifting his sniper rifle to lay parallel to his leg, not yet raised but his finger on the trigger. He wasn't sure if these two were working for the Prophet, Garret Jacob Hobbs, or if they were aiding them in their mad way for their own gain.

"Perhaps now we should make the decision for him, sister?" The man spoke, as if Will hadn't spoke. He had completely peeled his grape and now was working on quartering the meat of it into sweet, miniscule pieces.

"Hardly, brother," the woman scolded, turning to the man. "He makes his own decisions, don't you know?"

"Ah, naturally. Or he has the allusion he does."

"The allusion of decision is the crux of all things, is it not?"

"Not _all_ things, I should think."

"Most, then."

"Most, yes."

Abigail was staring at the two siblings, and suddenly she spoke as if she had come to a great revelation. "I think I've finally figured out who you two are. You're the Lectors, aren't you?"

"At your service," the gentleman said, bowing in sync with his sister.

Abigail's face had lit up. "Will, don't you know who these two are?"

"No," he admitted.

"They're the two responsible—well, she is, anyway—for the mechanics of Columbia's floatation technology. But, I read that they disappeared years ago…"

"Disappeared is a confining word," the female Lector said. "We are disappearing, have disappeared, and will disappear—or, if you will, we are dead, dying, and will die. Only the grammar changes, not the state of being."

"Dying is also a confining word," the male Lector said. His cheekbones seemed to be in fuller shadow in the afternoon sun, and his dark eyes seemed to be ringed with a similar color. His sister had a similar appearance, with those high cheekbones and shadowed eyes. "Or would it be 'have died'?"

"Have had yet died, I think."

"Have had yet died? No, that can't be right."

"Have had not yet die?"

"Perhaps. It doesn't seem quite right."

"Hannah and Hannibal Lector," Abigail informed Will as the siblings conversed, almost breathlessly. "She wrote some of the best physics books I've ever read. And from what I could gather, he's a renowned surgeon and a physicist—amazing, isn't it?"

"Hard to imagine," Will said. "They're raving mad."

"Oh, but what were we going to say?" Hannah Lector finally asked, returning to whatever string of conversation that Will had had to have missed.

"The directions to the Hall," Hannibal Lector reminded her, finishing off his grape and putting up the knife to examine it in a similar way his sister had with her grape.

"Ah, of course," Hannah said, turning to face Abigail and Will more fully. "You'll find the ferry to the hall that way—"

"—This way—"

Both Hannah and Hannibal pointed and spoke at the same time, but Hannibal pointed across his chest to the left while Hannah did the same, but pointed to the right.

Will followed Hannibal's point with his eyes while Abigail followed Hannah's. The two looked at each other while Hannah and Hannibal tried to right their directions.

"No, that can't be right," Hannah said.

"Oh, locked co-ordinates are a pain," Hannibal bemoaned.

"Perhaps it's straight?"

"No, no, that leads inland. The ferries are to the west, are they not?"

"Is that not to the right, then?"

"No, no," Hannibal said.

"Oh, this is useless," Will grouched. He ran his dirty fingers through his hair and turned to the left road, gesturing to Abigail for her to follow.

"What, where are you going?" Hannibal asked, turning on his heel. Hannah walked up beside her brother.

"To the ferries, where do you think?"

"Oh, in that case," Hannah said, "you may want to take this."

Abigail turned just in time to catch a key that the female Lector had tossed to them. In the instant their attention had been diverted to the key in midair, the two had disappeared.

"Told you," Will said. "Raving mad."

* * *

"Look, Will," Abigail suddenly said. Will turned briefly to see a familiar and similarly dressed couple waltzing to a gramophone over the rift between two of the floating islands. As their ferry slowly plowed past them, the pair could hear the sibling's rather loud discussion.

"You know, we haven't sat down for a proper meal in quite some time," Hannibal remarked, as the ferry slowly pulled away from their impromptu ballroom.

"I've noticed," Hannah agreed, "We really should visit the _Iles d'Hyeres_ again. The wine there is exquisite."

"As are the people. Delicious breed, the people of Hyeres."

"I prefer the peoples of Italy, personally," Hannah remarked.

"Hmm," Hannibal agreed, the sound barely audible to Will and Abigail. The two shared a look, and Will said, "I hope to God that they're talking about personalities."

Abigail shrugged hopelessly.

* * *

**Just offering my input to the Hannibal fandom. This is a Bioshock Infinite/Hannibal AU, where Will is Booker, Abigail is Elizabeth, Garret Jacob Hobbs as Comstock, and Hannibal (with an OC Hannah) as Robert and Rosalind Lutece, respectively. I've just finished playing the game and I can't help but imagine Hannibal as the impeccable and untouchable Robert Lutece. (The ending killed me, by the way.)**

**Here's my reference for Hannah Lector, as in the game Robert and Rosalind look very similar and wear similar outfits. Her name is Bianca Balti.**

**Hannah Lector reference picture: xaxor images / Bianca - Balti - Signe - Vilstrup/ Bianca - Balti - Signe - Vilstrup 9 . jpg**

**Just remove the spaces. **

**For those who haven't played the game, a rough synopsis is Booker DeWitt goes to a flying City of Columbia—erected in the sky by the Prophet Zachary Comstock—to rescue Elizabeth and bring her to New York to wipe away his debts. Robert and Rosalind Lutece are reoccurring characters that are definitely more than they appear, who periodically help Booker and Elizabeth.**

**This was just a quick, hour and a half story, so it's not perfect and not edited thoroughly, so I apologize for any mistakes or typos or inconstancies or what not. I may continue, but this was just mainly for fun. And a means to break writer's block for my LoZ stories, if I'm being honest.**

**Thanks for reading, and feedback is very much appreciated.**

**-S**


End file.
